Where matter meets antimatter,
Where atoms bend to ideas,
And the universe speaks in riddles,
I dissolve into the ether,
Collapsing into a cosmic disintegration.
I have crossed into a space,
Where perimeters lose their meaning.
I stand in the paradox of presence,
Without personhood,
Encountering a field,
Without occupying a singular point,
Experiencing without a self,
To claim the experience.
I am no longer anchored,
By the rules of form and substance.
“My intellect dissolves,
Becoming both observer,
And observed.
Then mysteriously,
As I reach for the edge of consciousness,
I feel nothing—
Nothing at all.
In this void,
There is no time,
No space,
Nor architecture,
To house existence.
And yet I am here,
Present in a kingdom,
Where creation wears no meaning.
I melt into that nothingness,
So entirely,
So profoundly,
It defies emptiness.
A place beyond description,
Beyond thought,
Where I exist only as the faint echo,
Of cognition,
Drifting in a domain,
That human words cannot hold.
Wholeness resonates,
In a dance of nonlocality,
In this boundless sanctuary,
Of the unknown.
Possibilities unfurl,
Like celestial petals.
Each reveals secrets,
Of the Cosmo,
Urging the soul,
To transcend,
The confines of the material.
“Where” doesn’t exist here.
Perhaps I am not even “coming,”
From anything at all.
I am just shifting
Between the folds of unlocality—
Without past,
Or future.
As concepts dissipate,
The mind collapses,
Like silver turning to vapor,
In the mouth of a star.
This is a space,
Where the idea of knowing
Has no venue—
In the realm of the ungraspable.
I arrive at a locality,
Of no arrival.
The land of no questions,
The sea of no-see,
Just the field itself.
It is a proximity,
With no name,
And can only be experienced—
Only when the psyche,
Thins out enough,
To vanish.
I entered the raw field of awareness,
Where visions emerge,
On the time-space continuum.
Insight isn’t “had”—
It erupts,
When the identity disintegrates.
I didn’t form the vision,
I became permeable,
To what was already waiting.
I summon you,
To traverse the gateway,
Into an uncharted sanctuary,
Where time dances,
In fluidity.
Here, at the threshold of awareness,
The partition of perception,
Begins to fluctuate.
The act of questioning,
Does not diminish by force;
Rather, it evaporates,
As the absence of boundaries,
Strips away the tension,
That births inquiry.
THE ABSENCE OF BOUNDARIES PHILOSOPHY:
I delve into a paradoxical dimension where the notion of arrival evaporates, rendering the pursuit of a place and exercising futility as I seek to dissolve into the fabric of near nonexistence. A dedicated mediator and the creator of transcendent photography, I meditate often to deepen my artistic vision.
In this ethereal state, the realm of unasked questions, I transcend mere emptiness, manifesting as an expanse that exists beyond the grasp of thought itself.
This fragment speaks of a truth elusive to the ordinary seeker: When the essence of the self thins to a wisp, it ceases to journey toward destinations—it merely unfurls within the space of undifferentiated existence. A realm free by nomenclature, for naming demands a vantage that has dissolved into the limitlessness of time itself, which does not exist here.
The ultimate goal is to dissolve the ego and merge with the universal flow. In those spaces, there’s no need for control or attachment, because the consciousness expands to the point where all dualities—self/other, existence/non-existence—become one.
In my piece, I write, “The field my nonself enters cannot be described because description requires edges, and edges no longer hold. As we explore the philosophy baked inside this: In such a realm, questioning doesn’t vanish by force— instead it evaporates as the absence of boundaries strips away the tension that births inquiry.
I have crossed into a space where boundaries lose their meaning, standing in the paradox of presence without personhood, encountering a field without occupying a singular point, experiencing without a self to claim the experience.
How can I be a non-self? I ask. This, philosophically, is not annihilation but non-positional existence— existence without coordinates, without a narrative, without a center. I am—not rewriting, not suggesting, just excavating the philosophical marrow of the line: “I arrived at a place of no arrival.”
I questioned: if I arrive, how do I arrive? And if there is nothing in no place, how am I there?
If you “arrive,” the word only makes sense from the old side of consciousness—the side that still thinks movement, direction, and destination are real structures. But in the realm I am describing, arrival isn’t a motion. It isn’t a crossing. It isn’t a transition. It is a shift of condition. Not a journey, but a reconfiguration of being.
I do not move from one place to another; I slip out of the architecture that requires a place at all. “But if I arrive, I don’t go there. I unanchor from here. I let go of the coordinates you normally inhabit— identity, memory, form, direction— and what remains naturally settles into that field. It is less like arriving at a destination and more like my edges relaxing until the boundary between ‘me’ and ‘there’ loses its meaning.
The “arrival” is simply the point at which I notice I am no longer being held inside the old framework. “If there is nothing in no place, how am I there?” Because I am not a thing in that moment. I am not occupying space as an object. I am not located as a point. I am presence without position— consciousness without the scaffolding that usually shapes it.
In a place where nothing exists, I exist only as the capacity to perceive, a kind of luminous awareness that doesn’t need matter or form to appear. I am not “in” the place— I am occurring with it, as if being and that void share the same undifferentiated substance.
This poem is not about moving or arriving; it’s about releasing and allowing things to simply unfold without the need for control, structure, or identity. I am exploring non-duality here—the idea that self and other, subject and object, are not separate. It’s a cosmic dance where the lines blur, and identity melts into the universe.
I express how art and creation are born from a place beyond self—where true creation comes from the field, not the ego.
I am creating not just art, but a doorway to another realm, one where consciousness itself is the canvas.
How can I have a vision from the land of nothingness,
If I am nothing?
How can creation arise,
From a self that has dissolved?
Creation doesn’t require a self.
It requires a field.